


The Weeks as Told by a Little Girl

by UniversePancake52



Category: No Boundaries - Fandom
Genre: Mentioned Pedophilia, OCs - Freeform, Other, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 02:26:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17889761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniversePancake52/pseuds/UniversePancake52
Summary: A poem written from the perspective of Alicia Keystone, the Dolorien Royal Scientist





	The Weeks as Told by a Little Girl

**Author's Note:**

> These are characters of my own from a story of my own.

One week  
Two  
Working on some new catastrophe  
The head shall burst and bloom like the flowers Alpheus picked for me  
Three weeks  
Four  
Another new pet, a boy this time  
The child of the last one seemed to warn him to stay with boys  
Five weeks  
Six  
If only I can get it to work, so this clock handed bird can be my friend  
Seven weeks  
Eight  
Is the boy breaking already?  
Throughout the weeks  
The spider hand on my thigh, moving up higher and higher  
Is it really worth it?  
You keep the job, swallowing the green liquid which flushes the cells out with the blood  
It's the only way your lie of virginity can continue  
If Alpheus knew, I would be dead  
He would be dead, then I would be dead  
The spider hand around my neck, moving down lower and lower  
I am no hedge whore, yet he treats me so  
"Alice, Alice, come to my chamber in nothing but your nightshirt or I'll have your head on a stake" his eyes say to me  
Must I pluck my flower to keep my position?  
Nine weeks  
Ten  
He always did love the young ones  
Eleven weeks  
Twelve  
The scent of the flowers did them in, a revolutionary fleet now a vulture's feast  
Thirteen weeks  
Fourteen  
He ripped the boy's arm off, and now wants me to fix it, despite the one who lives within the soul he harbors  
Fifteen weeks  
Sixteen  
Maybe I should run, taking it all with me  
No  
That's a silly idea  
My life shall waste away in this lab  
As my flower is ripped to shreds


End file.
